


Blame it on the Rain

by AoiTsukikage



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Kissing in the Rain, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AoiTsukikage/pseuds/AoiTsukikage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I promise you, it’s not what you’re thinking.  I do…like you, you realize.  You’re different from most people, and you’re passionate and intelligent and so, so strong and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit half the time,” he said this in a rush and compliments probably fell from his lips as easily as the leaves fell from the trees, but Feuilly believed him despite his own doubts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame it on the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> written for thecoffeetragedy on tumblr for a tumblr prompt with [this meme](http://feuillys.co.vu/post/62249536771)

He hardly meant to stay for long. 

But walking home in the cold autumn rain was never a pleasant prospect and it was probably just his luck that the skies decided to open up in the moment they were passing by Courfeyrac’s front door.  It wasn’t as if he was particularly accustomed to accepting charity, but a place to hide from the rain for a time was something he wouldn’t turn down. 

“Well, that was unexpected,” Courfeyrac laughed once they’d entered the room, shaking out his dark hair and smiling as though walking through freezing rain had been one of the highlights of his day.  “How long do you think it will last?”

“Who can say?” Feuilly stuck his hands in his pockets and shivered a little, because even a few drops of rain were enough to soak through his threadbare coat, and Courfeyrac sighed and turned to him. 

“Come on, don’t look so uncomfortable.  Take off your coat and stay for a bit, there’s no use going out there while it’s still raining,” he waved the other man into the room and Feuilly went slowly, removing his coat and watching carefully while Courfeyrac draped it over the back of a chair.  “Sit.  You’re making me nervous hovering like that.”

And Courfeyrac was nothing if not annoyingly persistent, so Feuilly did, knowing that if he protested he’d only be bothered until he gave in.  Maybe he was too compliant, but then, he knew Courfeyrac didn’t mean him any harm. 

“So,” the other man seated himself as well, looking comfortable and confident as he always did, and Feuilly envied him greatly for that.  He was horribly attractive and he knew it, and his entire body exuded a type of grace and charm that Feuilly could only ever hope to attain in his wildest dreams.  “Did you have any plans for the evening before the weather decided to intervene?”

“Do I ever have plans?” Feuilly realized that he probably sounded more bitter than he actually was.  Although, truth be told, it wasn’t a lie.  “But if I’m interrupting something you wanted to do I can leave…”

“Stay,” Courfeyrac waved him back into his chair.  “It’s not as if I had anything written in blood, just…you know how it is, cold night, there’s always a girl or two out there who’d rather spend it in a warm bed,” he grinned and Feuilly sighed, because really, he should have known. 

“I’m probably a poor substitute for a woman,” Feuilly tried to make the situation lighter but there was something in Courfeyrac’s eyes that was making him slightly uncomfortable and he chanced a glance out the window, disappointed to see the rain hadn’t slowed at all. 

“Well, I don’t know about _that,”_ Courfeyrac idly tapped his fingertips on the tabletop, head tilted to the side and a knowing smile playing about his lips.  “Granted, you’re most certainly _not_ a woman, but seeing as how it took an act of God and nature to get you into my house at all, maybe you’re in fact a bigger prize.”

And really, Feuilly thought, he should be offended by the implications of that statement, but he couldn’t help but find it a little…well…flattering.. Especially coming from Courfeyrac.  But  still.  “So I’m some sort of object to be won, is that it?”

“You’re so quick to jump to conclusions.  Is it that hard for you to admit that a person could find you desirable?” he looked strangely earnest and that may have been more frightening than anything else that had happened that evening, and Feuilly quickly made the decision that he was going to chance the rain because this was a little too strange for him. 

No, he wasn’t…against the idea of two men being intimate with each other (God knew enough of their little group had spent a night that way at one time or another) but Courfeyrac had always seemed so drawn to women that this felt like some sort of elaborate plan to embarrass him. 

Even though, rationally, he knew that there was no reason for that.  Especially not from Courfeyrac, since they’d always gotten on rather well despite their obvious differences. 

So it wasn’t that he was afraid, he prided himself on being open to learning new things, although…this was hardly the type of thing he thought he’d be experiencing tonight. 

He shook his head and reached for his coat, slipping it on and standing up because this whole situation still felt wrong.  “Sorry to intrude.  I’ll just be heading home.”

He knew he was being rude but since he was out of his depth in any conversation involving seduction it was probably best to leave before he _did_ make a fool of himself. 

Although he probably should have known better because yes, as he’d already been reminded that evening, Courfeyrac was exceedingly stubborn and he was hardly a few steps down the road before he felt a hand gripping his wrist and spun around on instinct. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“Get back inside; you’ll make yourself ill,” Feuilly retorted because of _course_ Courfeyrac had rushed out without putting a proper coat on, and his thin shirt was already soaked through, water plastering his dark hair down and somehow it only served to make him appear _more_ attractive. 

“I promise you, it’s not what you’re thinking.  I do…like you, you realize.  You’re different from most people, and you’re passionate and intelligent and so, so strong and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit half the time,” he said this in a rush and compliments probably fell from his lips as easily as the leaves fell from the trees, but Feuilly believed him despite his own doubts. 

“I’m not some grisette you can bed and then show to your door the next day,” his resolve was slipping and he knew it, but he still wasn’t about to give in quite so easily. 

“Darling, we see each other almost every day.  That would be horribly unfair of me to treat you like that,” Courfeyrac finally let go of his wrist but it was only so he could step closer and slide his arm around the other man’s waist, pulling him in and holding him there. 

“I still don’t know what you would see in me,” Feuilly kept his hands clutched into fists at his sides because, honestly, he could hardly even _remember_ the last time somebody had touched him that way and he _was_ only human. 

“You’re lovely.  Truly.  I wish you’d see that, too,” Courfeyrac sounded resigned now and Feuilly could only imagine how he must look, wet and shivering and his clothes and skin stained with paint that no amount of washing could ever seem to remove, but he couldn’t seem to come up with a proper response. 

And, as it came to pass, he didn’t have any need to.  He had no chance to, really, not with Courfeyrac’s mouth covering his own, warm and sweet under the still-icy fall of rain, and he found himself reaching to hold the other man instinctively, the tiny part of his mind that was still protesting this falling silent for a moment. 

“Come inside,” Courfeyrac pulled back enough to whisper, his fingers clenched in Feuilly’s hair and oh, he was probably going to regret this but perhaps he didn’t quite care so much any longer. 

“Yes,” he breathed out, barely any sound escaping his lips, but it was enough and Courfeyrac reached to take his hand, pulling him back up to his home.  “But I still…” he made a tiny, annoyed sound as Courfeyrac kissed him again.  “You can’t just… _do_ that every time I try to speak!”

“I can and I will and I’m going to,” Courfeyrac countered as they slipped inside, his hands moving to rid Feuilly of his coat before he pressed him against the door and kissed him one more time. 

“I didn’t say anything that time,” Feuilly felt himself relaxing despite everything,

“You hardly needed to.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I pride myself on it,” the other man assured him.  “Now, why don’t we get ourselves a little…less wet, and have a drink or two and see where the night goes?” he looked entirely too hopeful but, well, he had good reason to be, after all. 

“I’d like that,” Feuilly replied, almost astonished to realize that at this point it _was_ completely true, and let Courfeyrac take his hand and lead him farther inside.  


End file.
